


Sunrise

by orphan_account



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, Minor Violence, Past Character Death, Trans Ren, Trauma, also yeah, and it doesn't work, anyway, fuck damn you have to work through trauma??, no one really gets hurt, not really though but if you squint really hard maybe, ren had board game night with iskall and stress to take his mind off things, that's rude of her, though it's not really there it's just part of this wierd universe i've created
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:20:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21802795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's a full moon night, so Iskall and False come over to play games and take Ren's mind off of it. Then, he has a crisis with Iskall in his basement. It's kinda all over the place but oh well.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Ren is a werewolf in this fic, and not like furry werewolf but an actual big ol wolf. Also sorry in advance for any grammatical errors and weird sentence structures, my life is a little bit of a mess right now and my brain was pretty fried when I wrote this.

Ren hummed to himself as he tidied his base. It was only his starter base, a place to scheme before he moved on to greater projects, but that was no reason not to keep it clean. He reorganized his chests, cleaned out the ash in his furnaces, and mopped the floor. Completely lost in the work, the time flew by. Just as he was admiring his new, shiny floor, he heard an expected knock on his door. He opened it to see False and Iskall at his welcome mat, Iskall was armed with a picnic basket and False with the usual board games.

“I wasn’t expecting you this early!” Ren exclaimed, leaning in to awkwardly hug Iskall around his basket and then hug False.

“Ren, we’re actually an hour late.” Iskall said pointing at the watch on Ren’s wrist. He looked down and the hands unmistakingly proclaiming that it was 5:30 pm.

“We felt so guilty about running late and it didn’t even matter!” False exclaimed, her voice equal parts relief and bemusement.

“Well you better come on in then!” He said, only mildly embarrassed, stepping aside from the door. “I was just tidying, must have gotten in the cleaning trance.” He said as they stepped in and took off their boots.

“The place does look nicer than the last time I was here.” False commented, looking around.

“Hey! The dirt walls were a purposeful aesthetic choice, Falsie.”

“Of course.” False said, setting her board games on the table.

False set up the “Nether Aventures” board, one of their favorite tabletop games. Iskall unloaded the contents of his basket, which turned out to be sandwiches, chips, two cans of apple juice and a surprise bundle of redstone torches.

“What are those for?” Ren asked, confused.

“Don’t know. I’m sure if you shook me more would fall out from somewhere.” Iskall replied, shrugging. “Don’t you dare try.” Iskall threatened, suddenly swinging around. False, caught in the act, broke down laughing.

A few hours in and things were already getting intense.

“I think Iskall’s bonus card is a fire resist potion, so I’m going to push Ren into the lava.” False said slowly and calculatingly, before discarding an action token rolling two dice.

“What?! We had a truce False!” Ren exclaimed, throwing his hands up. Iskall cackled, clearly smug about the whole situation.

“Six and a Five, yes!” False celebrated, moving Ren’s little character into a lava space. “It’s a dog eat dog world, Ren.”

Ren huffed and took the dice from her, rolling one. Three.

“Three hearts of damage.” Ren sighed before moving his character out of the lava. “It’s on now False, I see how it is.”

“Well it’s my turn now, and it turns out my bonus card was actually strength, not fire resist. Thanks for falling for my bluff, Fase.” Iskall said as he took the dice and rolled one, landing a five. “Now with my strength two, I’m going to stab Ren.” Iskall continued nonchalantly while Ren silently begged him with a pleading stare. He rolls another dice.

“Let’s go! Six!” Iskall clapped, then proceeded to unnecessarily use his model player to stab Ren’s. “Oh damn, I think that just killed you.” False snorts at that.

“You realize that now?!” Ren exclaimes, wiping his inventory. He sighs and moves his character back ten spaces. “I hate you guys.”

“N’aww, you don’t love us anymore?” Iskall asked, half joking, half worried Ren was actually bummed out.

Ren flipped a card before rolling his dice, it landed on a four.

“”Karma”: A friendly ghast has pity on the player and gives them a lift. Move twenty spaces.” Ren read this off his card before looking Iskall dead in the eye. “Fuck you.”

Iskall bursts out laughing and then the rest of the table does too. Ren smiles, quelling his competitiveness a little. He just wants to enjoy the evening, and in the mild light of his dining room with friends he loved, he just might have been able to. Still, even though the rest of the night was going on delightfully, a growing sense of unease started pacing around inside Ren.

His friends knew how much the anticipation and anxiety of transforming affected Ren on this day of the month, so they did what they could to keep his mind off it. He loved the two deeply for that, the fact that rain or shine they always showed up to his house on full moon nights to play board games, watch bad TV or just to make a mess in his kitchen. Then, one of them would always stay the night to keep an eye on him. Still, he could feel his unrest start to grow, and the swelling feeling of magic snaking from the ground and up through his feet was not helping. It seemed Iskall noticed because Ren suddenly found a steady hand on a leg he didn’t even realize he was bouncing up and down. He gave him a concerned look, but Ren couldn’t do anything but give him a weak smile in return.

Soon the sun was setting and False needed to head back to her base and feed her dogs. After hugging and goodbyes, it was just Iskall and Ren.

“You ready?” Iskall asked, looking over at Ren. He could start to feel his vision sharpen, his hearing range broaden. His tongue traced his sharper than normal teeth. He knew he had barely a half hour before he was fully transformed, so despite the dread of heading to the basement, he nodded. Together they descended down dusty cobblestone stairs, Iskall holding his shaky hand. In the pitch dark of his windowless cellar, Iskall struck his flint and steel, lighting up a torch. He placed it gently into its holder before turning to the corner were he had last left a pair of handcuffs and a muzzle.

“These need a bit of cleanup.” Iskall noted as he picked them up, rubbing the muzzle’s leather straps in his hand.

“I don’t like looking at them if I don’t have to.” Ren admitted, staring at his feet.

“Nevermind that then.” Iskall said reassuringly as he pulled Ren’s hands together. Then he felt the cold metal warp around his wrist, just slightly loose so they’d be snug after he transformed. “I can give these a little polish myself” Iskall mumbled mostly to himself as he strapped the muzzle onto Ren.

“You know Iskall, this has completely ruined the inherent sexiness of handcuffs for me.” He gave the cuffs a little shake. He heard Iskall giggle a little behind him as he tightened the last strap.

“You’re not wrong. This would be pretty hot in a different context.” He turned him around to judge the fit.

Ren sighed and sank down against the back wall, the swirling feeling in his gut almost unbearable. He squeezed his eyes shut so hard he saw flashes of color behind his eyes.

“Do you think I’m ever going to be able to trust myself again?” He asked, his words coming out more defeated than he had intended.

“ _Ren._ ” Iskall’s voice was almost a whisper. Ren looked away, not able to bear the sympathy.

“I hate these.” He continued, tugging on the cuffs. “I hate that I have to wear these to not hurt my friends. I hate _myself.”_

Iskall gently lifted his head back up so that he could look Ren in the eyes. “Ren, it’s okay. You will get through this. You’ve gotten so much better already.” Iskall’s eyes flickered to where the rope on the floor and slight reassurance washed over Ren. He was right. They didn’t need to tie his feet anymore, at least they’d improved that much. He smiled weakly, the hope ghosting over his lips.

They spent the night in Ren’s basement practicing responsiveness, awareness and control. Iskall, as usual, was wearing a full set of diamond armour and had a shield handy just in case. It would be deceivingly easy at the start, down in the basement there were few other things to distract him other than Iskall. They would talk until he had fully transformed and could no longer communicate. Still, just having Iskall there grounded him. Usually living beings elicited nothing but a violent, bloodthirsty response, causing his skin to pick with an unbearable heat that could only be quelled by ripping the damn thing apart. Iskall was different though, and at least for the first part of the night, his presence calmed him.

Only when the clock hit three am did he finally lose it, letting pure instinct take over only an hour before sunrise. He jumped on Iskall, the metal of his muzzle smashing against his shield. His skin flared with heat, he could feel it crawling up his neck and dripping down his back. With Ren panting in frustration and bloodlust, teeth bared in a snarl, it was hard not to be scared of him. Yet, as Ren lunged and crashed into Iskall again and again, he didn’t seem fearful, or at least he didn’t let it show.

Finally, he shifted back, legs growing longer, fur receding, eyes returning to their normal light blue. With magic no longer supporting him he fell on top of Iskall in exhaustion, his body weight suddenly too heavy to keep up.

“Whoa there.” Iskall said, pulling them both up into a sitting position. Ren didn’t let go, instead he clung on to him like a terrified child. Iskall drew him into a warm and heavy hug.

“Did I hurt you?” Ren asked softly into his shoulder, barely able to mask the sinking feeling of disgust.

“No no no, of course not. You were doing great, puppy.”

Suddenly, in the warmth and support of it all, an unexpected grief hit Ren like a freight train. He let out an involuntary sob, and then another, until he couldn’t control that anymore either. Tears streamed down his face, at first out of frustration and then because of an unplaceable heavy feeling. Iskall rubbed a hand up and down his back until he was just slightly shaking. Gently, he took off the muzzle and handcuffs, revealing the red streaks on his wrists where he had pulled too hard against the chain.

“You’re okay.” He said quietly as he swept some of Ren’s hair away from his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Iskall replied, drying Ren’s face with his sleeve.

“I miss being a kid.” Ren mumbled into Iskall’s shoulder, almost inaudibly. The grief in him twisted, a mix of anger and longing and nostalgia.

“Mhm?” Iskall hummed, encouraging him to continue.

Ren sighed as he repositioned his legs to a more comfortable position. He and Iskall were sitting right across from each other on his cold, basement floor, him gripping onto Iskall’s hands like a lifeline.

“I used to look forward to shifting every month. It was a chance to be something other than myself. Something that could be as rough and tumble as it wanted to be, and glimpse into a boyhood I never had otherwise.”

“You used to be able to control it?” Iskall asked, surprised.

“Yeah. My dad was also a werewolf. He and I used to escape on every full moon out into the woods, far away from the little mountain town where I grew up in. We’d spend the day hiking and the night going buckwild. Everything I know about nature and the stars I owe to him.” A lump was starting to grow in his throat but he continued slowly. He’d never told Iskall this, or any of the hermits for that matter. “He could talk to me, he was the only one that could bring me back down to reality.” Suddenly the words felt trapped in his tightening throat again.

“Then they killed him. On my elementary school graduation night.” 

“Oh shit.” Iskall seemed at a loss for words, but Ren didn’t think he would have been able to process them anyway. He gripped Iskall’s hands harder, shaking and sweating.

“They found out somehow, someone spotted us. I saw it all happen, they dragged him out. On the graduation stage. He was kicking and flailing, muzzled despite the fact he was human at the time. He was always so well put together, I’d- I’d never seen a grown man cry before. I can still- the fire, I can still feel it.” Ren’s voice was starting to crack and he paused, letting the memory sear through him before continuing. “I don’t think they had the heart to kill a little girl though, because they never came after me. After that, my mom had to lock me in the basement on full moons to confine and hide me. She became scared of me. We went to church every week and when they talked about werewolves, it felt like they were always staring at me, like they knew somehow. I uh, I always thought it was puberty that caused my inability to control it. Puberty was rough in every other way, but even after transitioning now, I never found that control again.”

There was a long silence that was only filled with Ren’s heavy breathing.

“That sounds a lot more like trauma.” Iskall’s voice came after the silence

“What?” Ren asked, confused.

“I don’t think this is related to your dysphoria.” He said, releasing Ren’s hand to let him wipe the sweat onto his pants.

“No, like what do you mean by trauma?” Ren asked, looking him in the eyes for the first time since they sat down. The word felt heavy in his mouth.

“I don’t know, I’m not an expert. But it sounds like you went through a whole lot and you never really processed it. I think shifting is still associated with some of that bad shit, and that might be part of why it’s still so tough for you.”

“I- now that you mention it that sounds reasonable. I never thought about it like that.”

“You don’t.” Iskall responded knowingly. “Trauma always seems like something that happens to other people.”

“I’m still not sure that’s quite it.” Ren said, shifting his weight.

“That’s fine. But I’m glad you told me anyhow.” Iskall said, before pulling Ren up. “You should go down to the hub sometime. Find a professional to work this through with.”

“You really think that’ll help?” He asked, suddenly up on unsteady legs. Iskall held out his hands to help him balance.

“Yeah, trust me, it will.” Iskall said before leading him back up the stairs and into the morning light.

**Author's Note:**

> haha plot twist, Iskall probably isn't as held together as he seems. welcome to all my hermitcraft aus where everyone is SAD and GAY :P  
> also if the last part felt expositiony that's because it was originally it's own fic that i hated but i salvaged it's corpse for the useful bits. just be glad you'll never get to read it :')


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